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POEMS
HEFOHMEHS
BT
WILLIAM DENTON.
IBIMTED AND FUBUBHBD BT
WILLIAM AND ELIZABETH M. P. DENTON,
DAYTON, O.
1856.
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COiXKCTiȣN
TS
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^ / ^ :'. ^ ^x' III' J .// w
To THE F&IENDB 07 HtJMAN PbOQRESS, —
Who are la-
boring to remove the evils that afiOict Humanity, and
^[leed the time when men shall form one loving fimi-
ilj the wide w^ld over, these lines are dedicated by
their friend and Mow-laborer,
William Dentok.
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Contents.
I May Not be a Poet 7
The Fbeeman's Kesoltjtion 9
Tbuth and Eeror .......... 10
To the True Eeformeb 11
The FreemaJi's Keply 12
No . . . .• 13
Labor , . 13
The Spring ...,..♦ 14
Who are the Thieves ? 16
The Time has Come 17
The Coming Day 18
Revolution
What I onob Thought .-i.
The Makers and Venders op Intoxicating i
Drink .
The Battle of Freedom .
The Freeman's Hymn . , . i ^ . . . .
What is Religion?
What Makes a Man? * . 128
We'll Labor in Love for Humanity's Sake 30
Our Father Above 31
Man, Woman and Priest 32
What I Ask For 35
The Advent of Freedom 36
Do Right 40
Dedicated to Grumblers 42
The Real and the Ideal 44
Addition to the "Good Time Coming" . 45 .
Thoughts 45
Tni: FuTiTRE Day 50
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VI
lasERiHt^a Scab .....;.. T . * 51
Appsal to AusBlOA .-,,!,..•. 52
The An1s£m of thb FIieb • . \ « » . r 5t
On Bsma askjsd i^o Tiysa. xbb Oats qv Alss:-!
OIANOE ' . . . . . . * . . . • , 64>
Slavery .........•* \. .. 55
Wbbok of HxTMANi-nr •.•..--* 4 56
The Tbue li^ht • . . • ^ . ' 67
The Soul's Past aistd PsBSENn^ . . , . . 62
COHFOBT FOB THB HoCTBIfnSB ...... ^ 64
My Lamb 65
A PSALH OF THB P^ESBBT .«....• ^ 67
My Fobtunb ....,.• 69
rTY . * . . . . . * .71
ra Plaob ........ 78
. .75
79
........... 8(H
81
...... 82
JL\f JLXLjBi VJiJJBl .« ..•• S5
WiLLLAM AKB MaBT ......... 86
The Maidbh's OtJBSE .... i ... . 88
Akswbb to TBiB **L0KS Stabby Bam." . . . iO
ToE.M. F . 91
To Hannah 0. L 92
Lines to Lizzy 93
Labob 94
WiNTEB 95
The SpBDWf Day 96
Cazan and thb Gollibb • 97
Sunday Sabbath 101
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POEMS FOR
REFORM
I MAY NOT BE A PO
I may not be a poet, but my heart beats to the tune,
The mocking birds are warbling in this merry month of June;
My soul joins in the chorus, as they swell their artless lay;
I sit and dream of heaven, on this sunny, Summer day.
I may not be a poet, but I often stand and gaze,
With joy-tears in my eyes, upon the sun*s departing rays,
When golden beams are streaming through the cloudlets in
the West,
And Sol gives each a glory-kis3, baforo he goes to rest.
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I may not be a poet, but I love the forest tree ;
Each wood-king is a brother, happy, natural and free ;
I worship as a Druid, for Grod dwells within this place,
In wand'ring through the forest, I have seen him fiice to &ce.
I may not be a poet, but I love night's starry eyes,
Their glory, like a magnet, draws my. spirit to the skies;
I march along the milky way, amid the shining throng,
And list with rapture as I go, to their melodious song.
I may not be a poet, but the flowers talk to me;
The leaflets whisper softly, as I sit beneath the tree;
tiirp their loves, no secrets from me hid;
sward, and learn what "Katy did".
but I love the true and right,
lom's dawning, as the eagle greets the
EoU on, bright orb of Liberty, and in thy ardent ray
May ev'ry fetter mankind wears, melt speedily away.
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9
THE FHEKMAN^S RESOLUTION.
I will not bow to a titled knave,
Nor crouch to a lordly priest;
A martyr's torments Td rather brave,
Than be of my manhood fleeced.
I'll bend my knee to no golden god,
ril worship no calf in Dan;
Erect and free I'll stand on the sod,
And act as becomes a man.
I'll pin my &ith to no bigot's sleeve,
I'll swallow no griping creed;
I'll ask my Reason what to believe.
And ever her answer heed.
I'll hide no truth in a coward heart,
The world would be blest to know
My noblest thought without fear imp
Its only reward a blow.
Your curses hurl, but the noble mind
Can smile at your priestly ban;
Aye, forge your fetters! ye cannot bind
The spirit of God's free man.
I will be true to my heav'n bom self,
Nor league with the world to lie;
The rich may boast of their hoarded pelf.
In poverty, happier I,
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10
I'll love the true, I will do the right,
Subject but to reason's sway,
Let all do so, and the world's dark night
Will melt into rosy day.
TRUTH AND ERROR.
Not an error, firm as Andes,
Deep as lie her granite roots.
High, as soars the bird of thunder.
Wide, as Autumn sheds her fruits,
But can feel the heave of Progress,
Like an earth-quake, at its core;
But can hear the tempest roaring,
That shall sweep it from the shore.
Let it spread, as spreads the Banyan,
Thousand-trunked o'er hill and dell,
Truth 's an axe, whose edge of lightning
Shal^l the giant Upas fell.
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11
TO THE TRUE REFORMER.
List to thy thought, as its gentle voice greets thee, •
And sternly unshrinking, obey its behest;
Heed not the clamor of Custom that meets thee.
Still doing thy duty, leave Heaven the rest.
Cherish thy thought, 'tis a sapling supernal,
Transplanted from heaven, to flourish below;
Food fit for gods, it will yield thee eternal;
Neglected, its fruit will be sorrow and woe.
Live to thy thought, be the God-given plan
Thy guide, as the soul's walls successively rise;
Patiently build, thou shalt see, brother man,
A temple of beauty ascend to the skies.
Trust in thy thought, 'tis an anchor will hold thee
From drifliing when storms of adversity blow;
A compass, when thick clouds of darkness enfold thee.
Still guiding thy bark o'er the billows of woe.
Utter thy thought, see thou lock not the coffer;
Thus meanly and miserly hiding it there;
Out with it boldly, not fearing the scoffer,
As bright as the sun, and as free as the air.
Follow thy thought, it will lead to the mountain;
Thy soul shall then bask where the flowers bloom ever,
. Drink blessed draughts at felicity's foimtain,
Rejoicing with friends that no Future shall sever.
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THE FREEMAN'S REPLY.
They say I must be silent; that all truth should not be said;
That if the soul be manly, then the body wants for bread;
I cannnot be respected by the noble or the great,
But sorrow, grief and anguish must forever be my &te.
They bid me still the spirit- voice, clear, manly, noble, fcee;
And chain within the mind's deep cells the angel God sent me.
Go, bid the ocean cease to heave; the rivers cease to flow;
Bid smiling Spring retrace her steps, and flow'rets cease to blow.
Go, bid the bright stars shut their eyes, send back the sunbeam
flown,
And steal the azure from the skies that circle round its throne.
Go, drive the wild winds to their home, the lightning to its nest;
Ye cannot quench the soul*s deep fires, that bum within the
breast.
No, man was made for fireedom, as the stars were made to shine;
His boldest thought be spoken — 'tis his heritage divine;
For while the air remaineth to reverberate a sound,
The voice of God shall never, by the voice of man, be bound.
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IS
N O .
When Vice, with her painted face, tempts thee to stray,
Bewitchingly smiling thy scruples away;
When conscience but whispers, and passion says, go;
Let manhood awake and with firmness say No.
When Mammon is god, and all offer their vow,
And Interest whispers to every soul, bow;
When all men do wrong, and ask thee to do so,
In firmness speak out with a valiant No.
When base men for lucre their brethren enslave,
And fortune and fame seem to wait on the knave;
When by them invited all love to forego.
Make false hearts recoil by the ring of thy No.
LABOR.
*Tis the two-edged sword of sharpness;
'Tis the boots of seven-league stride;
♦Tis the stone that turns our pewter
Into gold, bright, pure and tried.
'Tis the hymn all Nature^s singing;
»Tis the prayer God loves to hear.
He who labors, finds an answer
To his supplications near.
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THE SPRINa.
She's coining from the sunny South,young daughter of the year,
To banish ev'ry cloud of grief, and dry each rolling tear;
The bloom of youth is on her cheek, and 'laughter lights
her eye";
Her presence makes the frost depart, and hoary Winter fly.
She visits ev'ry wooden hut upon the Western wild,
She gladdens ev'ry parent's heart, and kisses ev'ry child,
They scent her breath among the trees, they hear her pleas-
ant voice.
And as they gather up her gifts, their little hearts rejoice.
She looks upon the care-worn man, pale statue of distress.
That look is med'cine to his soul, to heal him and to bless;
Long years of sorrow, doubt and care, grow dim in her bright
beam.
And as a vision of the night, life's darkest shadows seem;
The tide of joy flows back once more, he flings his griefe away,
And, with a child-like soul, he joins his little ones at play.
She smiles upon the mountain rills, they smile to her again,
Their music rings upon the air, in wood and rocky glen.
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The very buds are big with joy, the rain-drops dance with glee,
And ev'ry bending twig keeps time with tuneful harmony.
She starts the life-blood in the veins of many a branching vine,
Whose tendrils clasp the forest boughs, as sister's arms en-
twine, r
She's weaving garlands for the grove, and carpets for the lea,
How noiseless is her workmanship,- though beautiful to see !
She's limning forms of beauty with a pencil made of flow'rs,
And singing joyous anthems through the sun-begilded hours.
She's walking in the verdant wood, she's dancing down the lea,
She's coming with a blessing too, for all the world and me.
The brooks have found their voices, and the birds a merry song.
The dead world is alive again, the old world blithe and yoimg.
A new edition Nature prints of her immortal book.
So beautiful, the very dead are rising up to look;
Ten thousand leaves, embellished all, and gilt with sunshine
bright;
The Maker's- name on ev'ry page inscribed in living light.
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16
WHO ARE THE THIEVES f
What stores of wealth in unfound mines,
The rich old earth contains;
Of iron, silver, lead and gold,
What piles within her veins !
While still with bounteous harvests swell,
Our mother's undrawn breast.
Of sweetest fruit, of com and wine,
To make each poor man blest.
What rocks to make his palace walls !
What cedars for its beams !
Our paupers might as wealthy be,
As misers in their dreams.
What woods uncut! what fields unploughed !
The poor man is God's heir;
Who steals his proud inheritance?
Who is the thief, and where?
Who locks up Nature's boundless wealth?
Who bolts and bars the door?
Curses upon his selfish soul,
Now and forevermore !
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THE TIME HAS COMK.
The time has come to stand erect
In noble, manly self-respect; «
To see the sky above our head,
To feel the ground beneath our tread
XJnled by priests, unruled by knaves;
No longer cringing, abject slaves.
The time has come to break the yoke,
Whatever cost the needed stroke;
To set the toiling bondman free.
Whatever price his liberty;
Better a few should die, than all
Be held in worse than deadly thrall.
The time has come for men to find
Their statute-book within the mind;
To read its laws, and cease to pore
The musty tomes of ages o'er;
Truth's golden rays its page illume.
Her fires your legal scrolls consume.
The time has come to preach the soul;
No meagre shred, the manly whole.
Let agitation come, who fears?
We need a flood, the filth of years
Has gathered round us. Boll then on;
What cannot stand, had best be gone.
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THK COMINO DAY.
See, the twilight on the hiUs!
See, tlie leaping mountain rills! —
Comes the wish'd-for, long'd-for day,
Rolling on its sunny way.
The world's long night is fleeing now,
For yoimg day tints the mountain brow,
And error's icy chains give way.
Before his warm land genial ray.
Hark! swelling on the morning breeze.
What soul-entrancing symphonies!
Bright angels, from the realms away,
Are heralding the Coming Day.
Wake, drowsy earth, from sleep arise,—
Light waits to bless uplifted eyes, —
Thy mists must vanish, darkness fly,
For Truth illumes the Eastern sky;
And lovers of the dusky night.
May hide iheir heads, for lo ! 'tis light !
Soldiers, lay down sword and gun,
For the work of war is done;
Men like fiends shall act no more,
Earth be cleansed from human gore.
Strangers, foes, forever gone,
Love shall make all nations one;
Men shall neither fight nor slay.
In the peaceful. Coming Day.
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Drunkftrds, cast awsy thd bo#L
Ride, dig up the buried soul;
Heaven gave you wings, then why,
Grov*ling on the ground, thus lie?
Water be jour drink alone;
True men have no other known;
Water, pure as heaven's bright ray,
£mblem of the Coming Day.
Bondmen, lift your drooping eyes.
Bead your charter in the"fekies !
Ye are men, your birthright claim.
Prove ye*re worthy of the name !
Freedom rises from her grave,
Claims as hers each down-cast slave;
Chains and fetters melt away
In the joyous Coming Day.
By fikith, we see the shades of night
Disperse before the morning light;
By hope, we see the day arise
And gild his pathway on the skies;
We hear that soul-enchanting strain.
And joy bounds through each throbbing vein;
We watch and work, we wait and pray,
To bring the joyous Coming Day.
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20
REVO LUTIO N.
Truth is shining, earth's awaking;
Freedom rising,, chains are breaking;
Tyrants on their thrones are quaking.
For thwr reign is nearly done.
Books are coining, error leaving;
Pen and press their past retrieving.
Swiftly fly their shuttles weaving
All the nations into one.
Priests and creeds are.retroceding,
Men the guide within are heeding;
Ev'ry one his garden weeding,
Headlong, bigotry fs hurled.
Love upspringing, hate is dying;
Men rejoicing, knaves are sighing;
Deadly curses fast are flying
From a renovated world.
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11
WHAT I ONCE THOUQHT.
I once thought that Heaven was made for the &w,
That God was as vengeful as Moses the Jew,
That millions were doomed at his bidding to dwell,
Within the dark bounds of a terrible hell,
Where Hope never enters, but ring on the air
The weepings and wailings of endless despair.
I once thought the Bible was God's holy word,
That reason opposing should never be heard;
I made it my study, my ev'ry day care;
Its falsehoods were truth, and its curses were prayer;
To doubt was a crime that could ne'er be forgiven,
And faith was the lever that raised us to heaven.
I once thought that Death was a monster accurst^
Of evils the greatest, the last and the worst;
His maw, so insatiate, swallowed our race.
And left of their beauty and glory no trace;
The grave, was a shadow-land, cheered by no Spring;
Where sat on his ice-throne, a skeleton king.
I once thought that Earth was a valley of tears,
A wUdemess-world, full of sorrows and fears;
That God's curse had blasted its beauty and grace,
And poisoned the &irest and best of the race;
I wept as I thought of this horrible ban,
And sorrowed that God should have made me a man.
Ye fables of childhood ! my faith in you fled;
ye lie in the tomb with the dust-covered dead.
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THE MAKERS AND VENDERS OF INTOXICA-
TINa DRINK.
Magician like, they take our food, transform it into death,
And blast the young and gentle with its pestilential breath.
As leeches, drain the nation of its happiness and wealth,
And as a de^ly poison, pale the blooming cheek of health.
They feed the fount of sorrow, and increase the source of ill,
JJntil a mighty flood rolls down, where once was but a rill.
They dam the streams of gladness as they leap to bless the
earth,
And change to yells of madness, e'en the sweetest strains of
mirth.
They wither, like a deadly blast, the blooming flowers of joy.
And, as an icy breath, our fair and budding hopes destroy.
No hamlet have they left uncursed, no place but knows the
woe
That follows in their deadly train, wherever th^ may go.
You tell me they make money, at this horrid trade of theirs,
A blessing to themselves, and then, a blessing to their heirs;
A curse goes with the money, and they cannot say it nay;
A stain is on their hoarded wealth, they cannot wash away:
From human blood 'tis daily coined, mid curses, groans and
fears.
No dollar, but was steeped within a fount of scalding tears.
Make money ? yes, no doubt they do, and other things as well;
Such things they would keep secret, but the voice of truth
must tell.
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They make the staff of life into sharp arrows for death's bow;
They dig an early grave wherein they lay their victims low.
•^ What liars, paupers, thieves tiiey make, with hosts of God-
%
And turn our noblest men and true to basely crouching slaves.
They raving, howling drunkards make, more beasts than they
are men.
Who put out reason's light till it can ne'er be lit again.
Pale, weeping widows sad, their work, the heritors of grief,
Who dread not death, that Iwings to them a long sought sweet
relief;
Lone orphans too, who never knew a parent's imiile or kiss,
Who never heard the voice of love, or knew domestic bliss.
They make those jails and clanking chains for victims of their
trade;
Yon gallows, crowning all their Work, by them was also made.
They deepen ev'ry curse, and ev'ry wickedness they swell,
And turn this lovely earth into a fiendish, fiery helL
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THE BATTLE OF FREEDOM.
Come up to the standard, ye good men and tnie^
Ye're chosen by Freedom, she calls upon you.
Come up to the standard, for this is the day; •
The enemy's forming in battle array.
His banner's uplifted, around it they fly.
As birds in the Autumn that darken the sky.
Congress-men, senators, judges are there,
And man-stealers, many as motes in the air;
With rum-dealing deacons, and slave-holding priests.
As crafty as serpents, as savage as beast&;
These all have enlisted, and all receive pay.
The champions of virtue and freedom to slay.
Come up to the standard, ye good men and true.
This host's to contend with, and warriors are few;
Then haste ye from city, and village, and town.
The battle is waging, the foe's bearing down; .
The enemy makes a grand charge to regain
The home of his father, his ancient domain.
Bring broad swords, ye freemen^ your arms, daring youth.
And fight in the cause of Jehovah and Truth;
For one shall be able a thousand to fight,
And two noble men put ten thousand to flight;
Then haste to the field, let the King's work be done,
Tb9 battle of Freedom and Truth shall be won*
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2S
the: FREEMAN'S HYMN.
Happy the man whose soul is free
To follow Truth; 0, God, and Thee!
Ko creeds his ^ul to enx>r chain.
He snaps the priestly bonds in twiun.
The laws that Thou hast made, he lovea,
And this, by his obedience, proves;
Not foolish, man-made laws, but Thine;
TruthAil, eternal, and divine.
His soul within no sect confined;
His church embraces all mankind;
Each day a sabbath is to him;
His life, a never-ceasing hymn.
No Bible his, by mortals penned.
Where truth and error strangely blend;
His book, the book of Nature, true,
God-made, immortal, ever new.
He prays no heaven, his soul to blesfl^
Of everlasting idleness;
But would a useful fiiture spend
In God-like works that know no end.
No hell of useless torment fears,
The home of agony and tears;
No devil dfeads, dark god of ftin.
The only evil ii within.
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26
To him the heavens thy love declare.
The beams of morning, bright and fiiir;
The stars of night, the land,the sea
Are all the teachers of the Free,
Thy voice he hears in ev'ry breeze.
In wild bird's songs among the trees;
And in the clonds of eve can trace
The beamings of thy smiling &ce.
Thou teachest him; where'er he turns
Sweet lessons in thy school he learns;
Of goodness, wisdom, truth and love.
Made perfect in thy school above.
WHAT IS RELIGION*
Not masses, nor crosses, nor Catholic creeds;
Not mumbling of aves, nor counting of beads;
Not church-going, psalm-singing, paying of priests.
Attendance on sermons, prayer meetings, or feasts;
Nor wearing a broad brim, and plain thou and thee;
Or straight-collared coat, from the world's &shion free;
It is not to kneel with a long, pious &ce,
Or sing solenm anthems in some holy place;
In sect to be cradled, or on a creed nurst,
Believing that ev'ry outsider is cursed;
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27
That God has in heaven ordained us to dwell,
But left couxitless millions to drop into hell;
Religion is love in the heart and the life,
The soother of sorrow, destroyer of strife;
The soul's best physician, — ^relieves ev'ry pain,
And in her dark cavern, lights hope once again.
It curses no one who has doubts of its creed;
It hunts up no martyrs to bum or to bleed;
It tells of no devil with tortures and chains,
No hell of unending and horrible pains.
It seeks not to bless men, by force or by fear,
But draws them with love to a God ever near.
It tells of the right, and it whispers, obey,
To happiness, Virtue, alone, is the way.
This world it makes happy , and then beyond this.
It points to another all sunny with bliss.
Bright heaven of beauty, how fair are thy skies!
Thou home of the good, and thou school of the wise.
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28
WHAT MAKES A MANP
Kot num'rous years, nor lengthened life;
Not pretty children and a wife;
Not pins, and chains, and fancy rings.
Nor any such like trumpery things;
Not pipe, c^ar, nor bottled wine,
Nor liberty with kings to dine;
Nor coat, nor boots, nor yet a hat,
A dandy vest, or trim cravat;
Not houses, land, nor golden ore.
Nor an the world's wealth laid in store;
Not Mister, Kev'rend, Sir, nor Squire,
With titles that the mem'ry tire;
Not ancestry traced back to Will,
Who went from Normandy, to kill;
Not Latin, Greek, nor Hebrew lore.
Nor thousand volumes rambled o^er.
Not Judge's robe, nor Mayor's mace.
Nor crowns that deck the royal race;
These all united, never can
Avail to make a single maa>
A truthful soul, a loving mind.
Full of affection for its kind. .
A helper of the human race,
A soul of beauty and of grace;
A spirit firm, erect and free,
Tb^t never basely bends the knee;
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29
That will not bear a feather's weight,
Of Slavery's chain, for ^hiall or great;
That truly speaks from God within,
And never makes a league with sin;
That snaps the fetters despots make,
And loves the Truth for its own sake;
That worships God and him alone,
And bows no where but at his throne;
That trembles at no tyrant's nod, —
A soul that fears no one but God,
And thus can smile at curse and ban;—
That is the soul that makes a man.
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30
WEtiL. L.ABOB IN LOVE FOR HUMANITY'S
While Ignorance darkens one heaven-made soiil,
While Bigotry holds o'er a mortal control,
While Slavery robs men of virtue and will,
And War has his gory hand lifted to kill,
While Want can a brother's heart sorrowful make,
We'll labor in love for Humanity's sake.
Though some that were finends, in affliction may &il.
Though bigots may frown, and like tigers assail,
Though despots may seek with the felon to bind us,
And ignorant priests, with their errors to blind us,
Though stealthy assassins our lives &in would take,
We'll labor in love for Humanity's sake.
Till Freedom arise in her might from the grave,
And claim as her child ev'ry down trodden slave;
Till plenty shall gladden each dwelling on earth,
And sadness and sorrow are banished by mirth;
Till no bond remains for the freeman to break,
We'll labor in love for Humanity's sake.
No storms shall discourage, no dangers repel;
All goodness is with us, it can but be well.
No angel shall tempt us our duty to shirk,
No demon shall scare us from doing the work,
No mortal shall coax us our cov'nant to break,
To labor in love for Humanity's sake.
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OUR FAT5IER ABOVE.
When discord is dioolang the arrows of strife,
And jealousy pois'ning the sweet springs of life;
When tempted our Iwethren to injure or kill,
Becsose of some real or &nciful ill;
May reason restrain us, and brotherly lore,
BememVring we all have one Father abore.
Wheal danger and sorrow hang darkly around,
And hushed into silence i§ sympathy's sound;
When life is enveloped in sadness and gloom.
And friendship is buried vrithin the dark tomb;
When wide seas divide us from those that we love.
How sweet is the thought, '%e've a Father above."
When death, with his summons, approaches our bed,
And youth, in its vigor and beauty, is fled;
When dim is the eye that once^eamed with delight,
And dark round the soul, fell the shadows of night;
We'll lie down in peace, then, assured of his love,
And go to the home of our Father above.
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MAN, WOMAN AND PRIEST*
Mak.
Qtomnng, weary, hea^y-Iftden^
Lo! I see a weeping maidea;
Sad and desolate she moans;
Such distress mi^ moTe the stones;
Who has dared to blast this flow^-^*
Hade such earsed use ot power ?
Who has bound this miud in chains?
Demons haunt him lor his pains !
I wOl raise the droopii^ skye;
Woman, rise ! be free, be braye I
Cast thy burden to the ground;
By chains thou shalt no more be bound.
Pbibst.
Stay thy hand ! rash fool, beware !
An Apostle placed them th^^;
God hiniKlf the burden laid
On the shoulders of the mud.
Cease ! His yengeance, at a blow,
May^ this moment, lay thee low.
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Mak.
God ! what God has done this deed ?
Maker of the BSndoo creed ?
Jnggemaut, whose bloody rites
Feast fa£9 soul with nure^delights ?
PttlBST.
Scoffer, have you never heard
God's most hdy, preckras wcnrd ?
Bead his laws, they all declare
Woman mnst the burden bear.
Man IB lord of all below;
Woman as he wills must go;
She in all tilings must obey,
God hath sidd, dare you gainsay ?
Man.
I your holy book have read;
Maiden, raise thy drooping head.
There's a holier book than yours,
Evermore its truth endures;
He who made the earth and sea,
Wrote o'er all blest Liberty.
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Who the mountams made and plains,
Never pat this maid in chains.
Fish in water, bird in air,
Kills and flowers, bright and &ir.
Winds that blow, the humming bee,
Sing to us of Liberty.
Let your "Jewish fkbles" go;
Error is the source of woe.
Nature to the world is preaching,
Listen to her truthful teaching;
Men and women, wise and free,
Then shall come the Jubilee.
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WHAT I ASK FOR.
I ask not, Nabobs, for your halls,
Your coffers, or your state;
I ask not for the menials,
That at your pleasure wait;
I ask not for the cringing bows.
That fiiwning spaniels give,
Whose servile spirits never knew
The aim for which I live.
I ask but for my share of land.
With honest hands to till.
Supplying thus my daily needs.
Frown Fortune as she will.
Give me but this, PU gain all else.
Healthy, contented, free;
God's sun and rain, his frost and snow
Shall ever work for me.
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THE AOVENT OF P^REEDOM.
'T W9S Summer eye; the soft wind rocked to sleep the
nodding flowers,
While busy inseets sang their loyes, within the arching
bowers.
I wandered forth from man's hot town; 't was beay'n on
earth to me,
To lie npon the fragrant grass, beneath the spreading
tree.
As sank the sun in g^orj down behind the crims(m West,
Arose, upon my fiiding si^t, the star of ey'ning, blest;
And lo ! enlarging as I looked, it seemed a golden crown,
Upon an angePs head upborne, who thus came flying
down
She cast a glance that thrilled me, as beneath the tree I
l»y;
Unwittingly I followed, as she gently led the way.
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^e lifted up acoUage l«teh» how pleasantly she smiled.
And shook the peasant's homy hand, and kissed his
ruddy child,
-^My Uessing on ye hreatibMS ef the fiesh, free, country
4ur;
Be manly, and he hold," ahe said; *^ hold to do and
dare;
TThough tyrant knaves may riyet chains^ yeur toil shall
giye you Gltrength;
And ey'iy fetter shall ye tread heneath your feet at
length.**
She yisQted the city; "hut she left the gay «nd proud,
And sou^t a little attic, all unnotieed "hy the crowd,
Where sat a youth, whose sparkling eyes reyealed the in«
"ward fire,
Which kindled in the bosom once, can neyw more ex-
pire,
^le laid her hand upon his brow: ^HjK> ferth, my son,**
said^fao,
*1 make thee Captain of the l»>sts that fight for Lfterty.^
Bhe passed a ^oomy prison, and her fece put on a fW>wn;
^!he rusty bars of iron, at her presence melted down;
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The treble-bolted doors flew l)ack, that closed the giba-
my cell,
Out spnuig the trembling prisoner^ a man, with men to
dwell.
Her eye beheld the gallows, and it rotted to the ground^
While crowds of legal murderers in amazement looked
around.
She spread her pinions forthe South, the bondman raised
his head.
For though his manhood bleeding lay, Hope, ling'ririg,
had not fled.
The planter saw, aned direw his knife^ with fury in ha»
eye,
And swore, with fearM oa<^ that he would hold hik
slaye or die.
A shadow (grossed her blooiinixg fitee, she left the land
of thrall,
Where bondmen find their sweetest drink is bitterer
than gall.
"The Church will gladly aid me now, no doubt," the
angel said,
And thither onJwr pinions swift,, the blest deliy'rer fled.
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^was Sabbath, and the priest beheld her coming to
the place,
He closed the door, and hastened forth, and cursed her
to her face;
"Begone" he said, *^why thus disturb our chuch's holy
rest?
Thou breeder <rf continual strife, we can have no such
guest;
Then banned her from the "Hdly Book," 'Ijase, hell-
bom wretch," said he,
"God dwells within our walls, we have no room for Lib-
erty."
Indignantly I heard him speak, I felt my brain on fire;
"Base utterer of pious lies," I shouted in my ire;
But- Freedom turned, as thus I spoke, with chiding look,
to me;
I started, it was night profoimd, I lay beneath the tree;
Night's cresset fires were blazing bright, and in their star-
ry gleam ^
I wandered home to ponder on tne meaning of my dream.
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DO BIGHT.
*T is wisest and best at all times to do riglit;
In brightness of sunshise, or darkness of ni^t;
For Sorrow and Woe are companions of Sin,
When Virtue walks out, then they quicklj fly in;
No rest is there henceforth, by day or by nighty
Por him who has wandered away firom the Eight
Do light, in each heart, says a sweet angel ycooe;
Obey, and in swrow you still may rejoice;
A rill, in your wand'rings, will always be nigli.
And there you may drink, when the fountains are dry;
For Joy, like an angel, is ever in sight,
To bless with her presemce the doer of Right.
Do right, though the wrong may seem pleasant and good;
Though right may seem hard, it is well that it should;
The harder the right is, the sweeter 't will be,
T<o know we haye conquered, and, henceforth, are free*
The glorious warrior, boldest in fight,
Is he, who in trial, abides by the Bight
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For him, sing Uie birds, aye their merriest tune; ^
For him, spring the flowers in April and Jane;
For him opens Morning the gates of the day;
For him, walks the moon on her star-lighted way;
The fingers of Sorrow are never so light,
As when they are lud on ihB doer of Bight.
Do right, thongh a crowd of mean cowards do wrong;
A child, in the right, is as Hercules, strong,
The pathway is steep, and few tray'lers are there;
The prospect, how pleasant ! how balmy the air !
Then up, like the ea^e that soars in his flight;
Heayen's mansions are built on the mountain of Bight.
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DEDICATED TO GRUMBLERS.
'T is true, the world is very bad,
!N"o mortal soul can blink itj
But then, it's not so deadly vile
As some fault-finders think it.
All poor men are not whining knave: ;
Nor robbers, all our rich men.
Beformers, clearing off the track.
Be careful where you pitch men !
All parsons are not crafty priests,
Proud, lying, base deceivers —
Guides, who for pay, lead far astray
Their band of firm believers.
All lawyers are not gabbling rogues,
Intent alone on plunder.
Who, for a dollar, scale the mount
Of Jove, and steal his thunder.
Our legislative halls are not
Sodoms without a Lot in;
Though you will find, of members there,
Few groups without a sot in.
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The mags so vile, at Washington,
The devil finds no feult in.
Would drop asaunder, were it not
That there's a pinch of salt in.
No doubt, dark shadows cross the earth.
Scarce liven'd by a straylight;
But how is it, these shades are seen ?
We live in Virtue's daylight
The deeds at which our Withers smiled.
Nor thought a man the worse for,
We look upon with deep disgust,
And give our direst curse for.
The world is but a school-boy yet,
That each day learns a letter.
And all the time is striding on;
Thus, daily growing better.
Then cease this everlasting growl;
Be gentle, kind and tender;
And, since the world is bad, let's join.
And do our best to mend her.
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THE REAL AND THE IDEAL.
Ever there floats before the real,
The bright, the beautifiil ideal;
And as to guide the sculptor's hand,
The living forms of beauty stand,
Till from the roug^4iewn marble starts
A thing of grace in all its parts—
So, erer stands before the soul,
A model, beautiM imd whole —
The perfect man that each should be^
Erect in true integrity.
Keep this, soul, before thy sight.
And form the inward man aright !
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ADDITION TO "THE GOOD TIME
COMING/'
There's a good time comii^ boys;
A good time coming.
Men shall not bay what is not baiead.
Nor drink until thdr reason's fled,
In the good time coming;
But quaff spring water, bright and clear.
And nothii^ that is stnmger,
A2id htaoBh brandy, wine and beer;
Wait a little longer.
There's a good time coming, boys;
A good time coming.
Man shall no longer trade in man,
Nor on his dark skm place a ban,
In the good time coming;
For broken diall be slay'ry's chain.
Though it were ten times stronger, ,
And neyer more be forged again;
Wait a little longer.
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T'HOUGHTS.
Thoughts, gentle thoughts, are springing like the flow'rs
in smiHng May;
Bright earth-stars, &ir and goMen, with a blessing in
each ray;
They gladden childhood in its dance along life's verdant
lanes,
And soothe the years of manhood, in its time of toils and
pains;
No desert soul so barren, but they beautify the spot;
And where they ML to germinate, ih&re God himself is
not.
Thoughts, holy thoughts, like stars arise, when night
enwraps the soul,
Or beacon lights above the sea, when waves of sorrow
roU;
They close the door on vanity; they shut out lust and
pride,
Like Purest angels, wandering forever at our side;
To ev'ry soul of earth, they give a seraph's burning
wmgs.
And far above the gates of mom, *^e soars aloft and sings.
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Thoughts, ^brefMlMthtfo^ts, al^dnightcome^ the soul
a drifting wreck;
Their hurried footsteps pacmgiq^aod down die sounding
deok,
When dark misdeeds within* the hdd, wei^ down the
ship like lead —
The creaking timbers groMBing like the ghosts 9f^x)i]Ued
dead.
While gaping waves around it for possession seem to fi^t;
From thoughts like these, <xod saye us, in the lonely
hourofmgkt
Thoughts come Wat g^ponish galleons, with txeasuies o'er
the sea,
With richest jew^ fireighted* as a present for the free:
Each soul is on the tip-toe, when their gallants touch the
sky,
And hearts with hi^ hopes kden, greet those ressels
drawing n^h.
Each noble ship be fiivored, then, its destined port to win,
And Heayen's breath safe waft it, with its precious car-
goes, in.
Thou^ts C(nne like biasing comets, 'thwart the gloomy
ey'ning sky,
And wonder-stricken millions look with terror upon hi^;
They dread lest ey'ry &bric, on this Gt)d-made earth,
should fidl;
Lest comet so portentous should destroy and ruin all.
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Kut thoughts, tocr, have their orbit, afl ecceiltric though
' iiieyr look;
No waver in their burning track, unwritten in thebook.
Thoughts come like avalanches, f roffi the lofty mountain
brow;
The cedars, firm and mighty, with their sturdy l)ranchft8
The rocky, moss-grown castles &I1, jxq turret *s loft nn-
thrown,
While loud above the thundering, comes. Superistkkat's
groan.
An hoary-headed trrongs are swept, like feathers on the
blast.
Into oUivion's deepest gulj wheie sleeps **the worn out
past."
Thoughts come like shocks electric, from the battery of
Truth,
To strengthen manhood's nerves of steel, and fire the
pulse of youth;
They wake to action, virtues that have long been left to
sleep;
And stir the soul's calm fountain, to its silent, slumb'ring
deep;
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They blast each growing error, with their deadly lights
ning stroke,
And leave its stricken carcass, like a rifted mountaiB oak.
Thoughts yoke themselves like fiery steeds, and drag
the world along;
Woe to the stumbling blocks that would its onward
march prolong !
Vain; tyrants, despots, slaveocrats, its course ye can-
not stay I
Resistless as the Universe, it mov^js upon its way.
Dash on, brave Thoughts, in storm or shine, in day, or
darkest ni^tl
Thegoid we 're<iestined yet to reach, is Lotb, and Tbuth,
and RiQHT.
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THE FUTURE DAY.
The dawH of the glorious day is here,
Foretold by the voice of the ancient seer;
Hhat fiMT down the yista of future years,
Through gathering clouds to his soul i^pears;
And Hope, with a joyous toD«, sweetly sings
Its glories, till earth with her music rings.
Tliat day when lost Eden shalLbe restored;
The Universe bow to its righUul Lord;
When Mercy shall drc^ from the beaming skies,
And men shall be holy and truly wise
For Joy shall enliven the fleeting hours,
And Love shall encircle the earth with flow'rs,
And Beauty shall spring up on every side,
To fill with its glory the green earth wide;
When Concord the wounds of the world shall iMnd,
And man shall a brother in each man find,
The chain of the felon shall melt in twain,
And sorrow disperse like the MLing rain;
When War and its thunders forever shall cease,
And heaven shall echo an anthem of peace;
When Truth, as the sun in his might, shall shine,
And gladden each soul with a light divine,
Frror shall flee, like a night-bird, away,
And nought dim the lustre of that bright day.
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LIBETY'S STAR.
When Liberty's dxeam haunts the sleep ^the slave,
And angels are whispering, "Brother, be braye;"
When, daring the weight of ^e slaveholder's ban,
He flees to obtain all the rights of a man.
How gladly thy beams greet his sight from aikr,
His growing soul leaps to see lib^y's Star.
The Uoodhound is baying, a wolf's on his track;
"Ho ! dead or alive, bring the fugitive back."
He sinks to the «urth, he is ready to die;
But bri^t from the heaven thy beam greets his eye;
New life fills his veins, and his foes ajre a&r !
With tears he thanks God fyr bright labeity's Star.
The Cross of the South m»>y be to to the eye.
The Milky Way's gem9 may bespangle the sky;
The Comet may range through the heavens, und light.
With glorious train, half the circle of mght;
But steadier, better and brighter, by fiur,
Is th' hope of the fugitive, Liberty's Star.
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APPEAL TO AMERICA.
Freedom's proud daughter, why
Hug SUv'ry to thy breast ?
Let the fpul reptile die;
Bo may thy land hare rest«
Wash from thy country's page,
The dark, accursed blot j
Let not another age
Behold the damning spot*
Stand in your strength, O men I
Bow, to the wrong no more;
Free this fair land agaiui
As ye have done before^
Rise in your might divine;
Be ey'iy dark cloud fUrld;
America shall shine,
The pole-star ofiko world.
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THE ANTHEM OF THE FREE,
There 's a Song the rills ara singing;
As they ramble through the glen;
Echoes fcoBi the hills^ are ro^Ung
Thei3r sweet T<Hces back agitin.
There 'a a hymn the birds are dianting.
As they flit from tree to tree;
Nature lo?es its joyous music;
»Tis the Anthem of the Free.
Boll the Wild waves to its numbers,
As the free winds o^er them sweepj
(rambol gaily in its spirit,
AU the tenants of the deep J
To its notes the bees are humming.
Working on the yerdant leaj
Ev'rywhere is Nature ringing
With the Anthem of the Free.
Btart we then, from death-like slumber,
As its heart* tones reach the ear:
Spring to life, resolves long lying
In our bosoms, cold and sere.
Henceforth we are slaves no longer;
Up, on unchained pinions flee !
Swell the everlasting chorus,
God*s sweet Anthem of the Free.
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ON BBlNa ASKED TO TAKE
THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE.
What ! swetar myself a Godless kns^e?
A tyrant o'er the treml^g shive?
A bloo^oand fi»r the souihem boAd,
That hunt the bondman <3xf6i^ onx hmltf
To strangle Truth, to murdur Loye,
And to the yidtnre giTe ^^ dove?
To cast out Pity flrom my heart,
And bid all manliness depart?
My right hand from my body sever.
Ere I be Sl*?'ry's minion, everl
I swear to fight till Error dies»
Till Slavery's rotting carcass lies
A stench to aU beneath the sun,
Amd Freedom's latest field is won.
I swear to spare no manly stroke,
To break the proud oppressor's yoke;
To let no sun pass o'er my head,
Without some word for Freedom said:
Some acticm done to raise the slave,
And send Oppression to its grave.
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SLAVERY.
Let Slavery spread her ample sails,
And boldly float with fov'ring gales,
Some undiscovered land to gain,
And sow the smiling soil with pain;
Her pirate hold filled to the deck
With sad humanity a wreck;
The storm is gathering that shall sweep
Her rifted timbers o'er the deep.
The night is pregnant with the day;
The BU>xm U &ther of the calm;
And battle's hot and bloody fray
Heralds th^ conqueror's crowning palm.
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WRECK OF HUMANITY.
Wreck of humanity, on the world's ocean^
Tossed hy the billows, in angry commotion;
Driven by howling winds, driyen like foam;
Black heayen scowling, no hope, and no home;
Breakers around him, a rock-girted shore;
Death-dirges chant the wild wayes as they roar;
"Ours, the mariner ! ours, make room !
On floats the mariner^ on to his doom.''
Lowers, to press him, the thunderous sky;
Clutch him the wayes, as they madly leap by;*
Hope sinks behind a dark cloud in the West;,
Starless the gloom in his desolate breast.
Light trembles oyer the wUdemess sea;
Hope yet my soul ! No, it neyer can be.
Qod ! am I dying, or is it a dream ?
Fair as the morning, and bright as its beam
Gomes a sweet angel, with loye on her brow,
Guiding a life-boat with star-lighted prow.
Joy ! for bright day has succeeded the night;
Joy ! for the hayen of life is in sight.
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THE TRUE LTOHT.
'T was First day mom, the sun shone bright,
And, as a god, dispensed his light;
The city in its lucid beam,
Was &ir as Heaven in a dream;
A stillness reigned as night profoimd,
Unbroken by a single soimd,
'Till from a hundred steeples high,
Whose proud heads seemed to prop the sky,
A thousand bells rang on the air,
"Come people, to the house of prayer."
And as the call went far and wide,
I saw a living, human tide,
A well-dressed, well-fed, smiling throng.
Pouring with golden books along.
I followed to a temple fidr.
Whose gilt dome floated in the air;
Through windows stained the dim light stole,
And beauty gladdened ev'ry soul;
The organ's peal swept through the aisle.
In tones would make an angel smile;
Now, soft as is a &iry strain.
Then, groaning "like a god in pain."
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When music's silver voice was dumb,
And Silence to her temple come,
I heard the priest, in accents loud,
Address the lai^, attentive crowd.
He said: "My firiends, this truth is clear.
All die in sin who come not here;
For Peter will the gate unlock
To none but our believing flock;
All else are heretics beside.
For whom Christ neither lived nor died.
The Pope' s the God-appointed head;
By him to life ye shall be led.
Nor with the goats — ^a numerous band —
Be found at last on God's left hand."
He ended; and I turned away
From the proud temple's grand display^
Attracted by a pleasing sound,
A humbler building then I found.
And heard one preach from "Christ the way."
"My friends," he said, " *t is clear as day,
Who make the Pope their god are wrong;
A fearful truth they'll find ere long.
Christ is alone the living way,
Our leader to the realms of Day.
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By him we 're washed from ev'ry stain;
In him we all are bom again;
We have the witness from above,
And know, and feel, that God is love.
How dark the soul without this light,
Its pathway shrouded by the night,
Lies hard upon the brink of hell,
Where spirits unredeemed must dwell."
In search of Truth, I bent my way.
And many more I heard that day.
One* said "We fell m Adam's fkll;"
And one, "We never fell at alL"
One said, with solemn shake and nod,
"There is a trinity in God,
Disbelief in which who cherish.
Everlastingly shall perish."
And straight I heard another cry,
"The trinity 's a Pagan lie,
A thing the Scriptures never mention,
A foolish, heathenish invention."
"The sinner must forever dwell,"
I heard one say, "in blankest hell;"
Another, then, at once declared.
That Heaven would by all be shared
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"Within the Holy book I *ve read,
This is the way to life," he said;
Another, with succeeding breath,
Exclaimed, "That is the road to death."
A traveler then, which way to go,
Bewildered thus, I did not know.
With anxious doubts my mind opprest.
Where could I go for light and rest ?
For darkness spread her vail around,
And wrapped my soul in night profound .
'T was then I saw, or did I dream ?
I saw a Light like morning's beam;
An angel form unto me came.
Whose wings were tipped with ambient flame.
He said, " I come to guide thy youth.
And lead thee in the path of Truth.
All thou hast seen are somewhat right.
Though none walk ftdly in the Light;
A vail shuts out her brightest ray,
That priests Care not to tear away.
Thou hast within thy soul a light,
Can chase away the gloom of night; '
A map by heavenly wisdom planned,
To lead thee to the Better Land.
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'Then look within, for God is there,
And cease to wander anywhere;
And thou wilt then this truth be shown,
'God loves the good, and those alone.
The soul sincere, wherever found.
On Christian or on heathen ground.
Is blessed by him who made the skies,
And finds acceptance in his eyes.
Be ev*ry deed in kindness wrought,
And nobly live thy purest thought;
Then Gt>d shall smile, and angels bright
Forever bring thee new delight
Be this thy drink, be this thy food,
Ever to labor, doing good;
So shall thy soul renew its youth,
And thou be one with God and Truth."
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THE SOUL'S PAST AND PRESENT.
My youthjEul days, were days of joy — of free and care-
less mirth;
And heaven seemed as true to me, as ever did the earth.
The "Land of Promise" lay before my bright, imcloudr
ed eye;
I longed for wings, that I might to its vernal bowers fly.
But dark days came, of fear and doubt, my soul's bright
hopes lay dead;
And, B& the early morning dew, my beauteouff visions'
fled,'
Like mountains, unbelief rose up^ and shutout heaven'sT
blue sky.
And to my soul a harsh voice said, "Thou too art bom
to die."
I was upon the ocean launched; dark, stormy was the'
night.
And not a star put forth a ray to bless my aching sight;
My anchor lost, the wild winds swept me unresisting on.
And o'er my bark, despairing waves rolled ever and^
anon.
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fiat lo ! the morning star of Hope arises in the sky,
And back the darkly gathering clouds before her pres-
ence fly;
My youthful heay'n comes back to me, still brighter
than before.
And, plainly, as the fields of earth, I see the golden
shore;
Sweet voices from the Spirit Land are whisp'ring in my
ear;
They bid me walk the path of Right, and banish ev'ry
fear;
They warble to me joyous strains, brought from the
choirs above,
The "vale of tears" becomes to me, a paradise of love.
Our Father's mansion stands before my soul's enrap-
tured sight,
I see bright spirits walk the fields of everlasting light;
And though these visions pass away — ^these angel forms
depart,
I will rejoice, for heaven has left its impress on my
heart
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COMFORT FOR THE MOURNER.
There is a garden where evermore bloom
The flowers of baauty, that vanish below;
They scent the glad air with a precious perfume,
And unfold in eternity's glow;
Then banish the shadows of sorrow away;
Our Father transplants the sweet flowers he gave;
To heaven's bright garden, this life is the way,
And its gate is the desolate grave.
There is a world where there breathes not a Uight,
The light heart of joy knows no shadow of woe;
There ring on the ear the sweet sounds of delight,
More melodious than any below;
Peace, gentle Peace sways her sceptre of love.
While, round her pure throne, all the bright angels fly;
But, 0, that blest haven lies far, far above !
And to reach it, the body must die.
There is a home where departed souls dwell;
The home of our Father, how pleasant and fair !
His children, all meet round the board, and they swell
Through the mansion a heavenly air.
Happy are they, from the cares of earth fled,
Their joy, evermore, unalloyed by a gloom;
Then weep not in sorrow for those who are dead.
For the door of that home is the tomb.
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MY LAMB.
I had a Lamb from our Father's fold,
More dear to me than the finest gold;
Its fleece was whiter than driven snow,
And pure as streams from the mountain flow;
Its eye was clear as the glist'ning dew,
Where love looked out at those windows blue:
And I was happy as man could be.
Whene'er those starry eyes beamed on me.
We roamed together at morning's dawn,
With glad steps over the jewelled lawn;
We crossed the valleys, and climbed the hills.
And drank with birds at the crystal rills;
Earth was greener, more bright the sky.
Fairer all things when that Lamb was nigh.
At eve, when weary we sank to rest.
Its head was pillowed upon my breast;
'T was then I heard the celestial song;
Of heaven my dreams were the blest night long.
Angels watched o'er my Lamb and me.
Bounding the night with their melody.
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But vailed in gloom were my glad dreams, when
Our Father sent for his lamb again.
I strove to keep her, but Death said "No,
The Shepherd caUs, and the Lamb must go !
But though I take her, it is in love;
She goes to feed with the flocks above.
The pastures there are forever green,
And streams that fail not flow on between;
There dwells the Shepherd, whose name is Love,
Around him gathering the blest above;
Then sorrow not for the dear oner dead."
*T was thus the spirit deliverer said;
And Hope, with angel voice, whispered then,
"Weep not, thou wilt find thy Lamb again."
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A PSALM OF THK PRESENT.
Tell me not, that inspiration
Died with Jewish bard and seer;
That the present generation
Only finds its mournful bier.
Tell me not, the Past, all cheerful,
Reaped when Truth was in her prime;
But the Present, sad and tearful,
Gleans the fields of olden time.
Tell me not, that heaven's portals
Closed when Science had her birth;
And from thence the &,ir immortals
Never visited the earth;
That the ever-loving angels
Ceased their songs long, long ago,
And they herald sweet evangels
Nevermore to those below.
For the fount of life supernal
Feeds unnumbered earthly springs.
And the joys, that are eternal.
To the waiting spirit brings.
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Come to us the friends who Tanished —
Left us weeping on the shore;
Eden's garden find the banished,
Eat, and live forevermore.
Manhood's vanguard scales the mountain,
Heaven opens to their view;
"Weary travelers, by the fountain !
Up ! and gird yourselves anew.
Build your churches, they are ours,
By a law ye have not knowp;
Kaise your steeples, flank your towers !
Truth shall claim them for, her own.
Marble, be the solid walls.
Granite, the foundation stone;
Error, build thy princely halls !
Truth shall claim them for, her own.
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MY FORTUNE.
Pm heir to no fiwrtune, no lordly estate;*
No child of the wealthy, the proud, or the great;
No slave calls me master, no tenant a lord;
No low-bending vassals e'er eat at my board;
No cellars have- 1, overflowing with wine.
From Moselle, Oporto, or world-renowned Bhine;"
No sums in the bank, and no stock in the field;
No gran'rys to fill with what harvests may yield;
No gallery of pictures, by masters renowned,
Dependent in halls,, by the beautiful crowned;
Nor beauty, nor &shion e*er come at my call,.
To garland a feast, or to dance at a ball.
**Thou' rt Poverty's child) and hast ever been so."
I think of my treasures, and aaiswer ye,. No..
€k)d's palace is mine, with its high dome of blue,
Its curtains, the clouds, with th&hght peeping through;
My carpet, the flower-spatigled meadow and lea, ^
And merry birds warWe sweet musie f<»: me*
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The clouds drop me nectar, the rocks distil wine;
Then never for less worthy drink shall I pine;
While Nature supplies me with fruits of the field,
I long not for aught that Intemperance can yiel4.
My pictures are landscapes, unfading and true,
Each set in a frame of magnificent blue;
The master, who painted, retouches them still;
No mark of his pencil, but tells of his skill;
Each moment they change, and new beauties unfold,
Now tinted with lead, and then burnished with gold;
I view them at morning. Night's curtain updrawn,
The lake and the mountain, the wood and the lawn,
When gently the breath, of the murmuring breeze,
Gomes laden with fragrance from blossoming trees.
When slowly the sun-light retires in the West,
And sweet to the lab'rer comes coolness and rest,
The moon lights each scene with her silvery ray,
The night has a glory unknown to the day;
When bright in the meadow the fireflies glance,
And look through the leaves, like the stars in a dance,
While spirits unseen whisper Hope in my ear,
And earth is so lovely that heaven seems near.
My cot is but lowly, yet Peace abides there.
And Health, joyous maiden, with cheek ever fair;
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Lovo smiles on me joyously all the day long,
And Hope ever sings a melodiotbB 901^
I'm rich in a happy and peaceable mind,
A soul whose pulse beats for th^ It^s of mankind.
I'm rich in a loye of the good and the true;
Such riches bring pleasures and bliss ever new;
Tm rich in the hope of an endless delight,
Where sin cannot enter, nor sorrow nor night;
Where paltry f^cAd wins not a soul ftom. its truth.
But goodness lives ever in beautiful youth;
There Gtxl has provided an infinite store.
And riches untold shall be mine evermore.
THE SONG OF BEAUTY.
There's Beauty in the rolling strewn, as dancing on its way,
The blue-bells and the violets drink vigor fix)m its spray;
The green trees greet it with a smile, the birds sing to its
praise,
While sweetest echoes roll along its banks their joyous lays.
There 's Beauty in the rolling stream, Beauty aU around;
You cannot wander anywhere, where Beauty is not found.
...'^^
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The gorgeous hues that d^ck the ^y, the rainbow's beante-
ous arch,
The golden, fleecy clouds aboye, foreyer on the march,
The jewelled stars, those eyes of night, what beauty in their
glance,
As leads the moon the fair ones out to join the nightly
dance.
There ^s Beauty in the azure sky, Beauty all around;
You cannot wander anywhere, where Beauty is not found.
The dimpled waves in merry chase, along the briny shore.
What beauteous shells they scatter on the Wue sea's sandy
floor;
What beauty in the coral cayes, where mermaids dwell be-
low.
And bright pearls gleam, those ocean stars, with eyerlasting
glow.
There 's Beauty in the sounding sea, Beauty idl around;
You cannot wander anywhere, where Beauty is not found.
How loycly is the mountain cot, for Beauty's home is there.
The stream, the meadow and the wood combine to make it
fiur;
'Tis garlanded with roses round, and smiling children play,
And chase the bees and butterflies, throughout the summer
day.
There 's Beauty in the lowly cot. Beauty all around;
You cannot wander anywhere, where Beauty is not found.
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BEAUTY'S DWELLING PLACE.
I dwell in the regions of ice and snow,
Where winds in continual tempests blow;
Where terrible icebergs uprear their form,
As monuments proud of the Frost and Storm;
They pile to the heavens the em'rald towers,
And finish their halls in the long night hours.
I dwell in the South in a bow'r of bloom,
Where orange and pomegranate breathe perfume;
Where silvery streams o'er the golden sand,
Run down to their ocean home hand in hand;
Through ever-green arbors the bright birds fly,
And Winter dirturbs not the calm blue sky.
My home is a cave in the crystalline deep,
Where wild waves its portals with vigilance keep;
There mermaids attend to my every call,
And weave for the sea-boy a fun'ral pall;
They watch by his grave, where the tree-corals grow.
And pearls light his tomb with their radiant glow.
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I dwell in the sky, when the young beams of morn.
The cloudlets in manifold colors adom;
I wander with them in their glorious march,
The rainbows above us triumphantly arch;
At even, I shine in the radiant star,
That tells to the earth of a bright realm a&r.
I dwell in the sun, Mght dispenser of light;
The monarch of day> and the conq'ror of night;
That wakens the drowsy old earth from his sleep,
And calms, with its smiling, the turbulent deep;
The moon's silver beam, as it sheds a sweet ray,
Upon the old time-eaten turrets so gray.
I robe all the trees in their foliage green,
And give to the silvery waters their sheen;
Bestow on the flowers of summer their hue.
The red of the rose, and the vi'lets deep blue;
I festoon the path of the wandering poor.
And flow'r garlands fling o'er the cottager's door.
In forest or field, in the sea or in air,
Wherever you wander, you '11 still find me there;
My smile's in the dew-drop, my glance in the gem,
Adorning with brightness the fair diadem.
There 's nothing on earth, that is lovely and fiur,
Unformed by my skill, or unwatched by my care.
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THE SEASONS.
Spring came, a maiden young and fitir.
Unbound to the winds her silken hair;
Her kyrtle, green, was trimmed with blue,
Her footstep, light as falling dew.
*Twas morning; on yon distant hill
She stood one moment, all was still,
Then sang so sweet an anthem there,
That heayen seemed to fill the air,
And flowers, buried in the ground,
Woke up to hear the joyous sound;
While young buds startled, with surprise
Opened in haste their wond*ring eyes;
And list'ning birds, in grove and glen,
Repeated that sweet strain agam.
Her breath was fragrance on the air.
That floated down the valley fidr.
Distilling in each tiny cup,
By ev^ry infknt flow'r held up;
Whence bees, who know the honey bells.
Transferred its sweetness to their cells.
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What joy was there along her route !
The old woods hung their banners out,
And by her side, with tinkling feet,
The young rills danced to music sweet,
While spreading from her steps was seen,
A living carpet, emerald green,
A path for Summer's gorgeous queen.
Within a chariot of light.
Whose winged steeds out-rode the night,
Thus, driving o'er her wide domain.
The goddess came with royal train.
A velvet robe of varied hue.
Around her lovely form she drew,
Its colors brighter than the skies,
Enriched by glowing sunset dyes;
Her brow, by Beauty's own hand graced,
A diadem of stars embraced.
Whose rays, swift heralds, went before.
Proclaiming her to ev'ry shore.
" She comes ! she comes, with open hand.
To scatter blessings on your land."
Then, by her maids of royal birth.
She gave her largess to the Earth.
They wove for man the fragrant bow'rs,
Those calm retreats in sunny hours.
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Where liquid waves of music roll.
To lift the sinking human soul;
Then, in the city, dark and dim,
With sweetest voices, called to him.
Their laughter swept the orchard through,
The blossoms fell, the apples grew.
The cherries blushed, and, from their beds,
The scarlet berries raised their heads;
And, o'er the fields of paly gold.
The mimic waves in beauty rolled.
They banished sorrow, pain and sighs,
They called down beauty from the skies,
And hand in hand, with her they -played,
Through flowery nook and bow'ry shade,
Nor thought of else till Autumn came;
A staid, demure and thougtful dame.
Her damsels on their shoulders bear,
The downy peach, the juicy pear.
And purple grape, the fruit divine.
Whose flasks contain the purest wine.
The golden grain, in drooping sheaves,
They bore beneath the farmer's eaves;
Within his mines laid up a store
Of daily life's most needed ore.
They set the verdant woods aflame;
Each tree a burning bush bedim^;
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While sang the winds, with solemn sound,
*'Take off thy shoes, 't is holy ground."
But Autumn fled when from the North
Came Winter's stormy mandate forth;
His icy sceptre, held on high.
Is felt and feared by earth and sky.
His word is law and, at his will,
The world's wild pulse is standing stilL
A thousand dashing streamlets hear.
They stop, and hold their breath for fear;
From spreading clouds the white leaves fall,
With crystal foliage cover i^.
And swiftly wrap, from head to feet,
The dead earth in her winding sheet.
As through the wood its echoes ring,
The trembling birds forget to sing;
And man, the lord of all, turns pale.
When Winter's voice comes on the gale.
But Spring is hast'ning on apace.
She'll take old hoary Winter's place;
She'll cheer the earth with light and song,
And make her life's blood dance along;
She'll garland hill and dale and plain,
And make this old world young again.
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Shall trees live for ages, and garnish the ground,
In greenness and beauty and gladness abound ?
Shall they ei^y lift> fbr a thousand long years,
Unburdened with sorrows, untroubled by 6ars ?
And yet man, the noblest of earth, sea and skies.
The upright, the thoughtful, the Gbd-like and wise,
Shall he, like a flower, but live f<»r a day,
Unfdd, likd a Fose, and then wither away ?
Or dauce, like a bubble^ awhile on the waye,
Look joyous a moment^ then sink in the ^ye ?
Oh no, for Jitemity calls him her son;
His circuit of glory he oyer shall run;
The heayons present him their inflnite store.
The years of the Highest are his ey^rmore.
Beleased firom the clay^ the immortal shall rise,
TiU Earth floats beneath him, a speck in the skies;
Th€| bright starf^ of eyen shall golden steps be,
And he shall aoeend t» tha WfUmfi of tbofree.
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HOPE FOR AlaL-
Through idl the varied p»tti we tread,
Are green and fragrant fields;
And not a daisy rears its head,
But some sweet comfort yields.
The grass is green above the graves,
And starred with sinning flowers;:
The ivy on the ruin waves,
And hides the crumbling towers.
To rugged rocks and jagged bark,
The modest lichen clings;
And in the forest, drear and dark,
The throstle gaily sings.
The soothing hand of friendship tends
The sufferer's parting hours;
And with the saddest lot, their blends
Some choicest, sweetest flowers.
There is no bitter cup, unmixed^
That man is doomed to drink;
There is no pit in which he's fixed
Eternally to sink.
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The darkest pit contains some light,
Some bright and cheering ray,
A hope, that in the blackening night.
Still whispers <tf the day.
- Withm a paradise we live,
How happy should we be !
If not, the fault to man we give,
And not, God ! to thee.
A HYM.N.
"Lord how delightful 'tis to see.
The whole creation worship thee;'
When upward, on the morning breeze.
Sweet praise is borne from fields and trees.
Voices of angels from above,
Chanting their holiest hymns of love.
Could not supremer praises give
Than this fair earth, on which We live.
Our tuneftd voices then we'll raise,
And swell the anthem to his' praise,
From whom all blessings have their birth,
Who made our home this joyous earth.
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A DREAM.
I stood upon a sandy seft— *
A boundless ocean dry;
No tree, no lea( no blade of grass
Was there, to meet the eye*
But bleaching bones lay scattered round,
That told of fearful death;
While ever blew the hot simoon,
With life-destroying breath.
I cast my eyes around, good God !
A trav'ller on the waste !
Across the arid desert, he
Strode on with fearful haste.
His swarthy brow, and furrowed cheek,
His countenance forlorn
And tell-tale eye, disclosed to me
Some deed of suffering borne.
Weakness itself his body seemed,
Yet upborne by the soul,
Th^ urged him on, with rapid st^,
Ta veaeh tise dtttiBMl 0mI
GooiiTp-
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The hot sun shed its bonung mjs,
Straight down upon his head;
And as I marked his fevered lips,
My spirit inly bled.
He sees a flowing crystal stream,
A palm-trees gratefUl shade !
And on he rans with eager steps:
It was the mirage played.
His sinrit drooped, his wh(^e fttune shook,
His manly eye grew dim;
Nor strength, nor motion seemed there left
In head, or heart or limb.
'Twas then I saw an angel fbrm
Api»*oach the pilgrim sad;
''To succor him, she doubtless comes,**
I said, and I was ^ad.
She held, within her lily hand,
A goblet, &ir and bright;
Pure, sparkling water kissed its rim,
And flashed in heaven's own light.
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God ! can demon be so vile ?
Pity in vain implores;
She halts, and, in the goblet bright,
A deadly potion pours.
She comes ! he sees her, and new life
Bounds through his throbbing veins;
Joy lights his eye, grief flees away,
And all his former pains.
He grasps the goblet with both hands !
I felt my blood run chill;
He knows the cup is poisoned,yet
With greed, he drinks his fill.
1 could endure the sight no more,
My brain swam, and I fell.
And waking found that I had been
Under a magic spell;
The roving foncies of my brain,
In sleep so wild and fi:«e.
Had conjured up the fearful dream,
I thus relate to thee.
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TO THE SUN.
Roll on, bright orb of day !
I would not for a moment stay,
Nor selfishly keep back thy cheerful ray.
But rather speed thee on thy journey fer away.
Thine is a joyful round,
Gladd'ning all hearts where man is found.
Dispensing light and glory all around,
And making deserts drear with plenty to abound,
Then go, by Mercy sped.
And shine on all by Mercy fed;
On youth's bright locks and age's hoary head,
On saint and sinner be thy golden blessings shed.
Teach them to copy thee;
With "good to all," their motto firee.
While looking on thy smiling face, they see
That thy Creator wills, all men should happy be.
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WILLIAM AND MARY.
My Mary will you go with me,
In foreign lands to roam;
And leave your bonny mountain cot,.
And leave your Highland home;
Tour fxtheTf old and gray,Mary,
Your mother leave for me,
And with your William wander off
Across the stormy sea ?
The cozy fire-side will you leave.
So pleasant and so warm,
Where loving hearts have nestled down
In many a winter's storm;
Where tales of olden time go round,
With mirth, and song, and glee;
Oh ! can you leave it my sweet love,
And go along with me ?
The old church bells will sweetly ring.
Their voice you will not hear;
And bonny birds will blithely sing,
But you will not be near;
The heather on the hills will bloom^
Its firagrance scent the lea^
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The meadow will be spangled o»«r,
You'll not be here to see.
Ok ! now my William say no more;
Whaterer may betide,
There is no Mast, the world can blow,
Shall move me from your side.
My Mher and my mother too,
rU leave to God above;
He never can be grieved with me,
For God himself is love.
And we will make our ingle warm.
When to across the sea;
And Love and Joy will fold their wings,
And dwell wiUi you and me;
Your voice shall be my music then,
Far sweeter it will be,
Than merry bells, and singing birds,
Witii all tiieir melody. ^
G^*s sun shines bright on ev'iy land, •
His stars light ev'ry sky;
And love can make a desert look
A garden to the eye.
Then flurewell to my mountain oot,
rU go with you to roam;
So ye do love me William,
Where you are is my home.
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THE MAIDEN'S OURSE.
tf
'Earth has no ra^ge like love to hatred turned,
And hell no fiiry like a woman scorned*'*
I wake to the truth, my life's vision is past;
He 's basely deceived me, I know it at last;
I trembled, I doubted, I hoped, it is o*er;
The wretch now derides me, I ask for no more;
The best gift of heaven he tramples to scorn.
And leaves me bereft of all hope and forlorn.
I looked on him once as an angel of light;
Each smile of his face made me thrill with delight;
The tone of his voice, as we sat 'neath the tree,
Was sweet as the music of angels to me.
I loved him as woman can only once love;
He vowed that he loved me all others above;
I, trusted tny all on a calm, sunny sea,
A wreck he has left me forever to be.
I loved him, but love is tronsformed into hate;
I'd as soon see a demon as lum at the gate,
rd rather a serpent enfold me than he; .
Base traitor, deceiver, no worse wretch can be.
I hate him, my curse on his head where he goes;
May fiends be his friends, and his dearest friends foes;
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May love nevfer bless him, nor goodness, nor truth;
The cold frost of age ,nip the bud of his youth;
0, bitter be poverty's blast that he feels,
The spectre of want ever tread on his heels;
May ev'ry sweet sound on his vile ear grate,
And love, e'er he feel it, be frozen to hate;
His visions, in slumber, be ghosts of the past,
And ev'xy foul spectre a worse than the last;
The prince of deceivers, the vilest of men.
May woman's sweet smile never bless him again;
May o'er him the billows of woe ever roll.
And lightnings of wrath scathe his villanous soul.
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ANSWER TO THE "LONE
STARRY HOUR."
I dreamt that I saw thy sweet fkee, love,
The smile that is evermore there;
Where thou art is beauty and grace, love,
And all that is pleasant and j^r;
I dreamt that I heard thy sweet voice, love,
As echoes of music afar;
I woke, *twas my dearest, my choice, love;
The music, his dulcet guitarl
We '11 wait not for morning to dawn, love.
By moonlight our meeting shall be;
One moment, and then on the lawn, love,
I '11 give a sweet welcome to thee.
We'll meet, and our hearts shall rejoice, love.
We '11 wander together afiw,
1 '11 list to the tones of thy voice, love.
More sweet than the dulcet guitar.
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TO E. M.
Bright as even's changeless fires,
Shine thy lustrous eyes on mej
Sweet as heaven's tuneful lyres,
Sounds thy voice of melody.
Ev'ry look is light and love;
Ev*ry sound,, a song divine;
As if thou hadst, when above,
Made an angePs graces thine.
Short the time is since we met.
Yet each moment seems a year;
All with budding springs are set.
Sunny, radiant, warm and clear.
At thy touch my soul is thrilled
As it never was before;
By thy smile my cup is filled.
Filled with pleasure — ^running o'er.
Beam upon me sunny maiden;
Banish clouds of doubt and fear;
Till with joy my soul is laden,
Laden through Love's circling yetr.
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TO AANNAH O.
If I were a poet, I 'd sing thee a song
Would enchant ev*ry listening ear,
In tones so mellifluous, seraphs should ftirl
Their pinions its echoes to hear.
If rieh, I'd present thee the choicest of gifts
That all Nature and Art can combine;
That Beauty can fashion and Talent produce,
Dear Hannah, should ever be thine.
If I were a sailor, Pd bring thee bright pearls.
From the depths of the billowy sea;
And shells, with the hues of the rainbow endyed,
I'd give, as a present, to thee.
If I were an artist, I'd paint thee a sketch,
Would enrapture thy soul to behold;
Or form thee a statue, so breathing with life,
That love in her arms might enfold.
A fiury, rd grant ev'ry wish of thy soul;
Not a thought should unsatisfied be;
But as I 'm a rhymer, I weave a few lines,
And offer a tribute to thee.
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LINES TO LIZZY.
The katy-dids are chanting,
From the fulness of their souls;
The stars above are shining
On this planet as it roUs.
There is beauty in the sky,
There is music on the earth;
And sweetest thoughts ar e springing,
Like the May buds into birth-
There 's a halo round the moon,
And a veil before her fiice;
She's peeping archly through it,
With a sweet, bewitching grace;
And as I stand and watch her,
Through the branches bending nigh,
How strongly she reminds me
Of the moony nights gone by.
The nights when thee and I, love.
From the city's smoke and din.
In grassy valleys wandered,
And the heavens shut us in.
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Of hills o'er which we ramhled,
V{hMi the d«7 was in its gra^e>
And sleepy flowers saw not
All the kisses that we gave.
The happy scenes she causes
My memory to xmfold,
Are fer dearer to my soul
Than an argosy of gold.
LABOR.
Labor, said the little ant,
Laying up for time of want;
Labor, said the busy bee
Thou wilt find it best for thee;
Labor, said the little rill,
As it ran to turn the mill;
Labor, said the filing showers,
As they came to bless the flowers;
Labor sang the birds to me.
Building in the budding tree;
Labor, chanted all around;
Up, betimes, and till the ground;
Labor, hands, and head, and ftet;
Eani tb» taraad yoa diify eat
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WINTER.
Cold winter is here, and blows with a whiz;
The mercury's fell, and fuel is riz;
The river is still, the hydrant is friz,
And ev*ry man wears a most comical phiz.
Dead in the garden are all the sweet roses;
Blue, as a whetstone, are all the red noses;
While every thing green assuredly froze is,
As stiff as the clods on the body of Moses.
Art ftirnishes flowers, though nature is froze in;
Grog-shops are gardens with blossoms, by rows, in;
Where watered by villanous whiskey that flows in,
Each fool must soon gather a harvest of woes in.
Rich people snug in warm bed-rooms are lying;
Poor people up in cold garrets are dying;
Shivering children are moaning and crying.
While bleak winds around them are mournfully sibling.
Then think of the poor, ye wealthy flint-skinners,
Who, in the great "grab game," have made yourselves
winners.
While eating with relish your smoking hot dinners,
Remember, in mercy, your poor fellow sinners.
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THE SPRINQ DAY.
Hurrah, boys ! hurrah ! for old Winter hak fled;
The slayer of thousands himself is now dead;
Spring came, like an angel, and breathed on our coast;
The tyrant immediately gave up the ghost.
The flowers are peeping with half Open eyes;
The sunshine is waking the slumbering flies;
The swallow is out on his wandering wing,
And blithely the birds in the cedar tree sing;
The butterfly tries its new wings in the beam,
And spotted fish leap in the silvery stream;
All nature rejoices, boys, why should not we ?
Hurrah for the sunshine upon the green tree !
Hurrah for the woods ! they are leafy and green,
Except where the flame of the red bud is seen;
The spring-beauty spangles the moss covered ground;
And vi'lets and crowfoots are smiling all round;
»The breath of the soft wind is fragrant with flowers,
And beauty is weaving her green summer bowers;
Then out let us ge, where the bright waters gleam.
Asleep on their bosom the shady trees seem.
The sunbeiuns keep watch as they peep through the
leaves.
And Spring for the joys of the past never grieves;
All nature is gladsome, rejoicing and gay.
Hurrah, boys ! hurrah ! for the sunny Spring Day.
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OAZAN AND THE COLLIER.
A Methodist preacher called Gazan, I knew;
One of the old school, unbending and true;
A mighty revivalist, knew how to dwell
On torments the wicked must suffer in hell;
Could picture the ocean of brimstone and fire,
Where souls die forever, yet never expire.
Till sinners would see the blue flames lurid glare,
And shudder to hear the mad yells of despair.
One morning he went an appointment to fill,
Equipped like a soldier, the arch foe to kill;
His heart full of zeal, as he sped on his way.
Beseeching that sin might be routed that day,
A man on the wide, open fell he espied;
"That man may be lost, if I haste not;" he cried.
The man was a collier returning fh>m work;
A pipe in his mouth, he looked grim as a Turk;
No matter to Cazan, who never looked back.
And feared not the devil himself to attack.
"Good morning," quoth he, then *'Otood mcum" gaid the
man;
Without fiurther prefiEu^e old Caean began,
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"Do you ever pray ?* he seemed taken aback,
And giving a glance at the parson in black,
"I reckon I dont, for I leave that to fools,
Who do nothing else but 'tend meetings and schools;
I have to work hard for my bread ev'ry day;
How can I find time, then, to gabble and pray ? "
"A hard case is this, I must try a new plan, "
Thought Cazan, and so he turned round to the man,
**This half-crown, my man, to you freely I'll give.
To promise me never to pray while you live,"
"I 'U promise you that in a gifiy," said he,
"So hand the half-crown, mister, over to me;
»T will buy me some whiskey, tobacco, and tea,
More comfort than ten thousand prayings would be."
He gave him the money, and went on his way.
The sinners of Gateshead to waken that day.
The collier soon came to his snug dwelling-place;
He entered the house with a smile on his face;
His wife, a good woman, was making the tea;
"Oh, Sally, my lassy, what thinks thou ?" said he;
"A man overtook me in crossing the moor,
A singular fellow he must be, Tm sure.
This half-crown he gave me, a fool I must si^,
To make him a promise I never would pray."
"What ! promise you never would pray ? " said his wife.
The worst promise that John, you've made in your life;
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Pray, what did he look l&e, and how was he dressd ?
I doubt your companion was none of the best."
"I noticed his clothes of an old fashioned cut,
And all of them black, from the head to the foot."
"All black !" she exelaimed, "Lord preserve us from evil,
The person you met with was surely the devil;
He gave you the money your poor soul to buy,
No doubt he will come for you, John, by and by."
For once in his life, John was troubled in mind;
To serious thought he felt deeply inclined ;
He*d dreadftd forebodings of terrible pain.
And wished he could give the half-crown back again;
He lay down, but sleep to his soul brought no rest;
He saw himself shut from the home of the blest;
Hell's wide mouth was open, the stranger was there !
He yelled in the anguish of utter despair;
mhfi bribe he 'd accepted a monster became,
»T was dragging him down to the regions of flame
Wl#e devils cried out, as it hurried him down,
"This man sold his soul for a paltry half-crown."
"0 save me," he cried with most terrible might;
"God save me," he shouted, and woke with affright;
And thus the poor sinner, ere he was aware,
Had broken his promise, and uttered a prayer. *
Henceforth, till his soul had declared for the Right.
No peace came with day, and no rest with the night;
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tJntily ^ruly saved fix>m the fool hellish snare,
At morning and evening he offered his prayer.
He joined with the Methodists — entered the fold;
In Grod's cause, henceforth, became asealous and bold,
And oft in the class or at love-feast would tell '
The strange way his soul was delivered from hell.
Some time after this, Gazan happened one day
To visit a love-feast that came in his way;
The collier was there, and of course, without &il,
He told to the people his singular tale,
Of him, all in black, that he met on the fell,
Who could be none else than the sergeant of hell;
Enlisting recruits for the army of woe,
Whose wages are burnings in brimstone below;
Then stating his present condition awhile.
He ended, and Cazan arose with a smile;
"To Grod be the glory," he said **evermore;
I shot that bird, ag I passed o'er the moor.
In order to serve the black devil a trick.
For once I was vdlling to pass for **01d Nick."
Then praise Him who put the good thought in my mind;
The Father of all, who h gracious and kind;
And pray all the subjects of Satan may be.
Like this man, enlightened, and happy, and free."
Though Cazan has passed as a shadow away,
His memory lives with the colliers to-day.
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SUNDAY SABBATH.
'Tis Sunday ! but the mom peeps out;
The breezes play the woods about;
The wild Jbirds sing their gayest song,
And echoes sweet the notes prolong;
Wide fly the blazing gates of day,
And Sol rolls on his sunny way.
The trees are weaving summer bow'rs;
The bees are kissing maiden flowers;
Young streams are dancing, wild and free.
And linking hands to meet the sea;
The spider spins his silky line;
The vines around the old oak twine.
Up I idlers up ! the world 's at work,
Nor meanly thus your duty shirk;
Your preachers lead your souls astray.
For Nature knows no Sabbath day.
Maiden, raise thy merry song !
Ploughman, drive thy team along !
Blacksmith, let thine anvil ^ing !
Woodman, make the forest ring !
Sailor, spread the snowr white sail,
No Sabbath knows the flying gale I
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City toiler, fiill of care,
Out, and breathe the balmy alS*;
Leave the haunted, Gothic ^ile;
Leave the dim cathedral aisle,
Where hooded Superstition walks.
And Bigotry, the murd'rer, stalks.
Out, and bathe thy dusty feet
In the meadow, cool and sweet
Where the trees, in solemn bands,
Eaise to heav'n their spreading hands;
Where joyous birds, Grod's heralds free,
Shall preach his gospel unto thee.
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